No Title Yet
by Sakai Kamichi
Summary: Nothing much. I was just screwing around. I don't own Pokemon or characters, just crappy plot. Ignore those last 3 words. I have no plot.
1. Chapter 1

I stared at it. It was so... strange. I wanted to know.

What was it?

A toy, perhaps? A decoration? Possibly a tool of some sort?

Reaching out, I touched it with my index finger. When I didn't die, I picked it up and held it with both hands, brushing off a thick layer of dust.

Intriguing.

It was the size of maybe a baseball, blue and pink in a design not unlike oil on water. It was hollow and made of... glass?

Mysterious.

It felt heavy enough to not break if I dropped it, but I could vaguely see the outline of what looked like a black marble rolling around inside it.

I shook it. It rang out, like a crystal bell.

Beautiful.

Turning it over in my hands, I noticed there was a fine line, a crack in the otherwise flawless object. I traced it with my pinky, eyes widening when my nail detected a shallow crevace where the line was.

Breakable.

In shock, I dropped it, instantly regretting my actions.

But nothing happened.

The ball fell to the ground with a sickening crack, but it was as good as new.

Or so I thought.

Bending down, I picked it up and replaced it, back on the dusty table where it belonged.

I turned around and left it.

Alone.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. I still wasn't sure what it was. There were no tags in that antique store. No price, no explanation. None at all.

I had spotted it on that small wooden table, resting next to a heavily cobwebbed eagle statue.

I had looked around for someone, maybe a salesperson, to ask what it was. But it didin't seem like anyone was in the store.

As if as soon as I laid eyes on it, everyone just disappeared.

I pivoted and took another look at that dusty little shop, the one on the corner of the street, hiding in the shadow of the large building beside it.

It wasn't bustling, but there were a few people, tourists mostly, milling around aimlessly.

Hm. I wonder where they had gone.

My thoughts drifted back to the strange glass object as I resumed my walking.

It was all alone.

I didn't think anyone would have bothered with it, all dirty and hidden as it was. But I had wiped it clean, to an extent.

I probably would've bought it if I had money with me.

But I didn't.

So, can anyone tell me?

Go on, take a guess.

I felt rather silly, talking to thin air.

I wasn't even talking out loud; if anyone was there they wouldn't have heard me anyways.

Would they?

There I go again, talking to myself.

And I still am.

I wondered again... What was it?

Brushing back a lock of my brown hair, I thought on.

I wonder...

I stopped walking, just barely missing the wall on my left.

I should really stop spacing out.

But there wasn't time to think about that.

I saw a boy, a bit older than me, staring.

Hm?

Someone has grabbed my arm.

I'm pulled around the corner I just passed and into an alleyway.

I didn't like this one bit.

The person that took me there was male, very muscular. Not ugly, but not particularily handsome either. He was bald with a trace of stubble around his jaw. A jagged scar ran down the left side of his face.

I did not like being cornered by him.

"Listen here girly," he hissed. Spittle flew from his mouth, a few drops landing on my face.

Disgusting.

I wanted to wipe it off. But I was paralyzed. I couldn't do anything.

Nothing at all.

The man continued. "I see you have no purse." His voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't had a drink in a long time. "But you have pockets. Cough it up."

I knew exactly what he wanted.

Money.

But I had none.

If I did, I would've spent it on that strange thing I saw earlier.

But he seemed very impatient. I might as well.

Slowly, I slipped my hands into my dress pockets.

The left one is empty. I pulled it inside out and let my arm go limp.

The right one had an old, crumpled reciept for something I bought and a pencil stub.

He growls. Jabbing his callused finger at my neck, not my face, he barked at me, spittle once again flying everywhere. "What? Nothing? I woulda thought you had more with that fancy dress of yours!"

Fancy? It was a rather simple sundress. I believe he thought 'fancy' meant 'clean'.

He smiled, and I resisted the urge to cringe. "I guess I'll just take that."

I blinked in confusion. Take what? There was nothing to take.

I was deadly wrong.

He grabbed at the ends of my dress and yanked upwards.

The dress came off without much resistance and I stood there in my underclothes, shocked out of my mind.

Grinning wider, he grasped my right wrist and pulled me close enough so I could hear him whisper.

"You are very pretty, girly."

I felt sick.

His hand skimmed along my back and I shuddered, tears forming in my eyes.

I let out a rather loud sob and he laughed.

I felt worse. But I, somehow, found my voice.

I screamed. A loud and shrill as my voice could go, I screamed with everything had. Which wasn't much.

The man slapped me and threw me against the wall. My head connected with the brick and I slid down, disoriented. Something wet trickled down my neck, and I knew I was bleeding.

But my scream had been enough.

A boy, that boy from earlier, had heard me, and so had a number of others.

They crowded around the alleyway's entrance and saw a girl collapsing against a brick wall and a large man with her dress yelling at her.

It was that time I was rescued.

Several police officers in uniforms stormed the place, surrounding the man. The boy came and helped me up, wrapping me in a warm jacket.

His face was blurred with my tears, but I could see he had beautiful eyes.

And they were lonely. 


	2. Faking It

May

Days had passed. I sat on edge of my bed, thinking.

I wonder...

Who was that boy?

I still had his jacket.

I wanted to give it back. There was no need to keep his jacket. I felt bad keeping it. Guilty. I hadn't even said thank you.

He shouldn't have given it to me. Or taken me home.

But I was grateful.

I wouldn't want to walk around naked. Or walked around at all, really.

I wanted to do something. I was bored.

My head throbbed.

My laptop had been borrowed by my lttle brother, Max.

Maybe he was still on it?

Oh well.

I left my room and saw Max on the couch, my laptop on the table.

He was watching cartoons. And he said he was mature. He was only 11. I was 14.

"Max?"

Max turned around and jumped up, rushing to my side. "May! You're not supposed to be out of bed!"

I smiled. "I'm fine, Max. Just a little bit bored, you know? And hungry." It's amazing how I did that.

Stay so normal while my mind had been reduced to such simple measures.

Sentences that cut off.

"Oh." Max frowned.

We lived on our own. Well, our dad was with us, but he got home rather late every night, around 11:30. Max barely saw him, but somethimes I would stay up and wait for him.

I didn't do that a lot lately.

Maybe tonight?

Our parents were divorced. That was what we told everybody.

The truth was, our mother left our dad for another man. Max was that man's child. We were half-siblings. But very close. Maybe even closer than regular siblings.

We moved after that. Kanto just didn't feel right.

So we came to Hoenn.

"Do you want anything to eat?"

I snapped out of my small flashback and nudged Max's arm playfully.

"I did say I was hungry, right?"

"Eheheh..." Max scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. My head pulsed.

"Let's go cook something together, okay?" I smiled, ignoring the pain.

"Sure..." We walkd into the kitchen where I saw a few papers on the counter.

"Hm?" I picked them up and read them. "Max? What is this?"

Max padded over in his bare feet.

"... I think these are excuse papers. It says you can't go to school for a week after it starts."

I blanched. What would the normal May do?

"Yay!" I threw my arms into the air cheerfully. "No school for me!"

Max looked at me, exasperated. "Guess that incident didn't change you one bit, huh?"

Oh, how wrong you are.

"Nope!" But lying as always the easier way out, right?

He sighed. "Yeah. I figured."

* * *

><p>Misty<p>

"Hey!"

I turned around and saw a girl running towards me. It's Dawn, I think. I don't know her very well, but she's May's friend.

"What?"

"What happen to May?"

"You don't know?"

"Summer vacation on some mountain. Didn't hear. So, what happened?"

"May... she was mugged."

"WHAT?" I pinch her lips together. This is kinda irritating. When it seems like she won't start blabbing about I-don't-care, I let go.

"Some dude pulled her in an alley and tried to mug her."

"I thought she was-" LIP PINCH. Repeat process.

"May didn't have any cash, so the guy took her dress."

"THAT PERVERT!" I didn't even bother. She really needed to learn how to listen. But she had a point.

"And I think he was gonna rape her..." Dawn covered her mouth, tearing up. "But then she screamed and the police came."

She let out a breath of relief. Annoying as she was, her heart was in the right place. I hope.

"I-is she OK?"

"Hm? Yeah. I dunno how she got back home though, she just disappeared from the scene. I went to see her... 4 days ago?"

"Can I go?" Dawn unleashed those big eyes May talks about.

I cracked. Honestly, though, I think May can do better. When she does it, these weird sparkles come out...

"Yeah, I guess... You should probably take some food... Um, hey?"

Dawn was running off, screaming about what food to prepare. I hope she's a good cook... Otherwise May will die...

Seriously, she will. May really likes good, gourmet food. Like, top-quality-5-star bistro food. Once Ash cooked for us... She passed out for 7 hours. When she woke up she jacked my mallet and beat Ash to a pulp. A squishy, bloody pulp. It was gross.

I wonder what'll happen to Dawn...

* * *

><p><strong>Wow, this is kinda angsty. The top part, I mean. I forgot the plotline I had in my head, so... I NOW HAVE 2 STORIES WNO PLOT.**


End file.
